I only stumbled upon The Natural Philosopher recently—and almost in the same breath learned it will close forever at the end of August 2025.
The news landed oddly, like being told a dear friend was moving away just moments after meeting them. Within seconds of stepping into its subterranean embrace, I knew this place was something rare. It carried that elusive bourgeois-bohemian charm—warm, layered, intimate—where every detail seemed quietly considered.
The menu read like a love letter to craft itself. Behind the bar, Mateo worked not from recipes, but from conversation. I offered only half-formed ideas, vague sketches of flavors I craved, and he somehow distilled them into three of the best cocktails I’ve tasted in years.
Its closing is a reminder that magic is fleeting. The places that make a city feel alive are never permanent; they appear for a time—and are gone.
If you can, go. In these final weeks, descend those steps, sit at that bar, and let someone who cares deeply about their craft create something just for you. Some losses can’t be prevented. This one, at least, can be savored before it’s gone.